Out of the Rain

Last night the rain poured on Los Angeles, like a cold water faucet turned on full blast. The city received a bath, and I was in that bath, running with a flimsy manila folder loosely covering my hair, wearing a pea coat, letting the water soak the rims of my jeans, across Bundy to Literati Café.

I live about a quarter of a mile away and I drove.

On any other night I would have enjoyed the walk, but I had to drive when bucket loads of liquid are falling from the sky. I did have an umbrella, once, but an old friend told me he’d hold it for me and then he left it on a subway in New York City. I wonder who is holding that umbrella now, whether some businessman picked it up to shield himself from the forces beyond his control; or if a homeless woman named Wanda has that umbrella to do the same, and then perhaps she uses it as a weapon from time to time, when in need.

If I had to choose, I hope Wanda has my umbrella.

Back to Literati Café. I ducked inside and was frazzled. I don’t like feeling that way. I felt as though my hair was a bee hive, a windswept craze, matted like a wet cat, perhaps. I wiped a few droplets from my face and found what I was seeking: my writers group.

Why spend 500 bucks on a class at UCLA when I have these guys to keep me in line? (Okay, I would very much like to spend 500 bucks on another class at UCLA but with Croatia, I realized I can’t have it all…) But still, this will do the trick for me. I ordered a hot chocolate that arrived in a cup about the size of my head, and I drank every last drop, and I loved it.

Beyond the hot chocolate, we actually did discuss writing. These writer friends are thoughtful in nature and in critique. They bring up valid points and through their stories I am once again experiencing other parts of the world and life that I would otherwise not understand: saying the wrong thing and regretting it for a lifetime; the frustrations of being a teacher; coming of age stories of just wanting to understand who you are at any given time. I enjoyed the moments and will let their feedback brew for a bit before I edit my work.

We meet again in five weeks.

Moving on….I received an unexpected delight in my inbox this morning from a co-worker, just a nice thought to receive on Friday, but these words would have made any day just a bit sweeter. This co-worker has caught a glimpse of my glow; she sees how happy I am. This is what she said:

It's true what they say when you do things for your self, feeding your soul, you are at your happiest. I'd have to say, you are doing an excellent job of that and totally independent of a man. Far too often women seek that in someone else.

It's true, it's true.